


Pride: Wild Animals Ahead

by SmackTheDevil



Series: The Seven Deadly Sins [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Brothers, Comedy, Driving, Impala, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 13:27:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4921327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmackTheDevil/pseuds/SmackTheDevil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who do you love more, your brother or your car? Please tick the relevant box.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pride: Wild Animals Ahead

**Author's Note:**

> Pride: Wild Animals Ahead is part three of a series of mini-fics based around The Winchesters and the Seven Deadly Sins. Part British sex-comedies, part angst and a few tears. Short and sweet and completely irrelevant!

Dean had been outside in Bobby's yard for almost two hours cleaning the Impala. Sam was becoming impatient, joining him often for small talk, to fix him drinks and occasionally just to enjoy the view.

As Dean applied the final layer of wax to the hood, Sam blinked at him through the afternoon sun.

“You could have worn a bikini.” He chuckled to himself at the thought of it.

“Now now, I think we already know who wears the panties in this relationship, Sammy.” Dean laughed deeply while Sam screwed up his nose. He had lost that one.

“You nearly done?” 

Dean stopped mid wax-off and sighed deeply. 

“You cannot rush perfection.” He stepped back and admired his handy work. “And that's what she is, perfection. Inside and out. Just like you little brother.”

Sams' cheeks flushed pink. They always did whenever Dean threw a compliment his way, which he realized, was quite frequently. Several times a day frequent. He was always beautiful and cute and hot and dirty. He was treated like some sort fragile siren. Untouchable yet completely irresistible.  
He rubbed his face as if to erase his flustered cheeks.

“We do have to leave before dark.” Sam winced. Waiting for another explanation from his brother about how important Babys' beauty regime is. Except he didn't.

“Yeah. I know. You wanna grab our bags and tell Bobby we're leaving?”

Sam nodded then disappeared inside while Dean packed away.

The drive from Sioux Falls down to Louisiana was to be a long one. Dean was confident the drive would be straightforward and that there would be no motel stop either. Sam being Sam argued this, stating that he didn't want to be cooped up like a caged hen for 18 hours and that it would make it more likely that Dean would fall asleep at the wheel. It had happened before, Sam reminded him.

“But did you die?” Dean climbed into the driver's seat, the newly valeted leather creaking a little.

Sam rolled his eyes and joined his brother in sync as usual. Dean eyed him as he sat down. Watching where he put his feet, how much he moved and what fingerprints he left behind.

“Careful.”

“I'm literally just sitting here, Dean.”

Six long hours into the journey and Sam was stiff from the waist down. He had little leg or head room and was keen to stretch his legs.

“Can we at least stop just for air? Some coffee. Something.”

“If we can find somewhere.”

“Dean, we drove past at least five places to get coffee already.”

“I ain't driving back now.” Dean threw a gas station bought sandwich at his brother. “Quit bitchin', eat that.”

“You have it. I just want coffee.” Sam pulled a face as he handed it back.

“Your loss.” Dean tore into the plastic with his teeth. Sam glanced at him briefly and then smirked to himself.

As Dean began chowing down enthusiastically on what can only be described as a depressing excuse for a sandwich, any thoughts of aching legs and the need for caffeine washed away for Sam.

See, there was this thing he liked. It was weird and slightly deviant and Dean agreed. Sam without exception would find himself insanely aroused when his brother drove and ate simultaneously. Not just driving. Not just eating. The two combined however and he veered into slut mode. 

Sam had begun to fidget. It was different to 'stuck in the Impala for too long' fidgeting. This was 'my cock is so hard it hurts' kind of discomfort. 

Dean knew. It amused him.

“You okay there, Sammy?”

“Fine.” 

“Are you sure because I still got half of this sandwich. Do you think you can control your womanly urges?”

Sam was a beautiful concoction of pissed and horny.  
“Stop saying that.” 

“Now, now. Don't get testy.” Dean laughed at his own joke, which was one of his favorites. “You shouldn't be so damn beautiful baby.”

Another compliment and Sam flushed puce this time.

“Jesus Christ. Please just pull over.”

“But..” Dean had a mouthful of food which sprayed lightly over the steering wheel. He growled deeply before pulling the Impala over and driving onto scrub land next to the road. Turning her off, he slowly turned to Sam. 

“See what you made me do.”

“What? I didn't make you do anything.” Sam huffily got out of the car and groaned as his back straightened.

Dean fumbled about in the back seat looking for his handy pack of valet wipes. Muttering an apology to Baby, the drivers door was pulled open fast.

“Get out.”

“What the hell you doing, Sam?”

“I said. Get out.” 

Sam grabbed Deans' arm tightly and dragged him from the car, swiftly spun him around and slammed the door back shut.

Panting softly, he calmly pressed his hands against Deans' chest and then shoved him hard up against the car.

“Hey, easy tiger. Watch the paint-work.”

“Fuck your fucking paintwork, Dean.” Sam slid a leg between Deans' thighs and prized them apart.

Dean opened his mouth to speak, but not one word would come out.

“Fuck your leather. Fuck your dash.” He spat as he spoke, his mouth close to his brothers. “And fuck your fucking car.”

Dean was motionless and still relatively speechless. 

“I..Well, I mean, it..” Dean cleared his throat as he felt Sams' cock grind up against him.  
“If the energy you put into sex was the equivalent of the amount of pride you put into loving this shitty heap of metal.”

Dean gasped loudly, Sam slapped his hand over his mouth and gripped it tightly.

“Then I might be able to call myself satisfied.”

Dean managed to say 'You take that back' with only his eyes while Sams' free hand fumbled with Deans' belt and fly.  
Slowly peeling his fingers away from his brothers mouth he leaned in, his lips brushing against Deans'.

“You don't say another word. Okay?”

Dean shook his head and then nodded, confused as to which was the correct response. Sam had never been quite like this. Dean was both perplexed and aroused in equal measure. His arousal intensified as Sam carefully moved Dean around like a vulnerable, horny chess piece. Turning away slowly, kicking his legs apart just the right amount and then easing his jeans and boxers down to his calves. Before pushing them down to ankle height with his shoe.  
Dean just let him do it as he repeatedly mouthed 'fuck' to himself. He didn't even care that his metal belt buckle had crunched against the Impala or that the eyelets on his jacket were gently grazing the spotless paint-work.  
Dean could hear Sams' belt and jeans being removed after which a hand gripped the back of his neck, then the other appeared in front of his mouth.

“Spit,” Sam demanded.

Dean, obedient, spat into his brother's palm and bit down on his bottom lip.

“Jesus fucking...”

“Shut up!”

Dean closed his eyes and pressed himself harder against the car and just let his brother fuck him. No niceties. Barely any lube. No conversations about whether they were both comfortable. And no concerns about whether it hurt.  
This was pure unadulterated fucking. Dean felt sick to his stomach. He loved it. Sams' grip around the back of his neck became tighter every time he drove his cock into Deans' ass.  
He was in every way pinned between his baby brother and Baby. Cold metal rubbing against his cock, the unnatural friction making him wince every so often. His head now was pressed against the roof, his arms out wide, hands grasping for something to hold onto. His right, the chrome rim of the windshield, his left, there was nothing, just his fingertips sliding against the wax.

Dean felt himself pulled away slightly, an attempt by Sam to bury his cock as deeply as he could. He was then slammed back against the car, it winded him a little, but the sudden altered state of his normally romantic and gentle brother was driving him crazy. 

Sam started to grunt as he buried his cock deeper and allowed his thrusts to become shorter and harder. As his hips became more rhythmic he pressed his mouth against Deans' neck. He was muttering hot breathy words which his brother couldn't make out. In between words, he nibbled and bit, sucked and gnawed.  
Dean groaned as he felt teeth sink into his flesh as Sam came, biting and sucking on his neck, growling deeply as he filled his brothers' ass.

Dean swallowed as he felt Sams' cock slide away from his body, shuddering as it did.  
He turned around slowly. Sam was already pulling up his boxers and jeans hastily. His head down, brown hair flopping over his red sweaty face.

“Sorry,” Sam whispered.

“You really don't need to be sorry.” Dean laughed deeply while he dressed.

“That might have been enough to make me stop calling you a girl!” 

Sam was slouched a little. A coy stance Dean loved and found endearing. 

“Come here.” Dean cocked his end to one side as Sam shuffled over towards him, laid a head on his shoulder and pulled him in close.

“I love you. And it's because I love you that makes stuff like that okay. You know? It's me. You can do what you like with me.”

Dean felt Sam laugh softly against him and then suddenly felt his body stiffen.

“Shit.”

Dean leaned back.

“What?”

Sam didn't speak but just pointed towards the Impala. He winced and then slouched again.

“Oh God, Dean. I'm really sorry. I..” 

Dean turned around. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and then opened them again.

“It's okay, Sammy. Really, it's okay.” He smiled weakly and stared at the drivers door of the Impala. The glass was smeared with pre-come and the metal below streaked with silver scratches of varying sizes.

“Are you sure? I mean, you spent so much time on her this morning.”

“She's had worse happen to her as you know. Accidents, minor prangs, you name it. But this is the first time she's been rammed by a moose.”


End file.
